


Three Sheets to the Wind

by Devious_Tree



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, I mean nothing happens cause Eddie is drunk, M/M, also from here on out all Buddie works should be tagged, but there's cuddles so that's gotta count for something?, idiots to lovers, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 07:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devious_Tree/pseuds/Devious_Tree
Summary: Firefighters have to be ready for anythingEvan Buckley could never prepare himself for this





	Three Sheets to the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> What up I wrote again, who would've thunk
> 
> This is, once again, all because of the 9-1-1 discord and Jess' wonderful prompt list, specifically the "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" one
> 
> Thanks again to Annie who beta'd for me at like 1am, I owe you my life

To say the date was going terribly wouldn’t be fair. Eddie turned to look at the girl he’d been half listening to for the past hour or so, a gorgeous brunette named Rosa who stood a head taller than him in the impressive heels she wore, only to find that she was gone. Had been gone for a while according to the half-melted ice cubes in the otherwise empty glass that had been a vodka soda. Eddie sighed to himself and polished off his third beer of the night.

So to say the date was going terribly wouldn’t be fair, but apparently to say the date had gone terribly was an understatement.

Eddie put up his hand to get another shot from the bartender. It was at least his second, because he remembered taking at least one during the conversation, but he also vaguely remembered making a little pyramid with 3 empty glasses, so it would probably be closer to accurate to say it was his fourth. He pulled out his phone to check the time, not needing to be home at any particular time since he left Chris at his abuela’s in a rare burst of optimism, and risked a glance at Uber knowing he was two past too many drinks to drive home. He almost physically flinched at the prices but didn’t really expect anything less from L.A. at 12 am on a Friday night. Saturday morning? Either way, Eddie tossed a couple bills on the bar top, enough to cover the number of drinks he probably took and his dates in case she had stuck him with her bill. He deserved it if she did, and if she didn’t then the bartender got a nice tip. Then he threw back the shot that had just landed in front of him, pulled his jacket around himself, and started the 3-mile walk back to his house.

Half a mile into Eddie’s stumble of a walk home, the Los Angeles sky opened up in a not rare, but not that common either, late summer monsoon. Eddie just pulled his jacket tighter around himself and continued on. It was 20 minutes later when Eddie tucked up close to a building for a quick respite from the rain and to pull up Uber again and seriously contemplate spending $35 dollars to get the rest of the mile and a half to his house. He’s weighing it heavily, he’s cold and wet and _really drunk_ and – he squints up at the building across the road from him for the two minutes it takes for his eyes and brain to focus (if asked, he’ll argue his vision is only that blurry because it’s raining not because he absolutely is _that_ smashed) before he realizes that that’s Buck’s apartment building. He dashes across the road and up to Buck’s apartment, letting himself in with his emergency key because the lights are all off and he knocked a couple times and it is an emergency, he could get pneumonia or something.

He flips the entry light on and goes to kick off his soggy shoes at the rack near the door, noticing Buck’s self-proclaimed “party boots” were missing, meaning the man himself was also gone for now. Eddie shivered again and walked over to the stacked washer-dryer before stripping out of his wet clothes and starting the dryer, figuring he was alone in the apartment so no one would know that his drunk ass was stumbling around bare as the day he was born. He headed down the hall to Buck’s room to borrow a pair of sweatpants and go pass out on the couch, but his brain kind of gets a little side-tracked as soon as he opens the bedroom door and sees the bed. And cut him some slack, it’s late and he’s so exhausted from his failed date and so tired from walking and so drunk from his three beers and three (five?) shots, so he climbs into that big warm bed without a second thought and passes the fuck out.

~~~

Friday nights are, usually, Buckley Siblings night if he and Maddie both have it off. If not Friday, it always happens at least once a week, a night of just the two of them, chatting and drinking and gossiping. No significant others, no picking up, just the two of them and a couple shots of tequila. So Buck is a little confused when he unlocks the door to his apartment and hears the dryer going and sees the kitchen light on, as well as light coming down the hall from his half-open bedroom door, but he sees Eddie’s soaking wet shoes by the rack when he puts his own over there and puts two and two together. Buck slides into the kitchen and turns off the light really quick before tiptoeing silently past the living room so he doesn’t wake up Eddie sleeping on the couch. He has half a mind to grab a blanket or two out of the hall closet and go put them over Eddie before he reasons that if the man needed them, he knew where they were and would have grabbed them himself. This isn’t near the first time Eddie has crashed on Buck’s couch, not even the first time Eddie has _let himself in_ to sleep on Buck’s couch, so he knows the drill by now.

That’s why Buck is a little taken aback when he pushes his bedroom door open and sees a suspiciously Diaz-sized lump bundled up under his comforter, just a little tuft of dark hair poking out of the blanket cocoon and onto the pillows. He has a split second of insanity where he almost pinches himself to make sure this isn’t a dream, because Eddie in his bed has definitely been a recurring dream as of late, but he shakes his head instead. Eddie probably came in here to borrow sleeping clothes and just passed out drunk in Buck’s bed. That was usually the reason Eddie slept over, too many shots or one too many beers had Eddie asleep on Buck’s couch before he could even pull out his phone to order an Uber.

Whatever the reason, Buck was not going to let Eddie being in his bed stop him from also sleeping in his bed. He’s tired, and it’s his bed and he can totally share it with his best friend and coworker and the guy he has a schoolboy crush on without it being weird but also it’s _his bed_ and he will not be sleeping on the couch in his own apartment. So he walks over to the side of the bed where Eddie’s head is poking out of the covers to wake him up a bit before Buck climbs into bed so he doesn’t startle him. (There was a whole situation at the firehouse once when Eddie had been napping, curled up on the couch, and Chim had jostled him slightly when he sat down. There had been some flailing arms, a lot of apologies, and a large bruise over Chim’s ribs.) So Buck bends down a bit and says Eddie’s name in a relatively loud voice then reaches over to shake his shoulder a bit when that doesn’t stir him, ready to jump back if half-conscious Eddie does decide to throw a punch.

What Buck is not ready for, however, is Eddie shooting bolt upright in his bed and looking around sleepily as the sheets and comforter fall low around his waist. What Buck is not ready for is to be almost eye level with Eddie’s beautiful abs because of how he was crouched down when he was trying to wake up Eddie. What Buck is definitely 100% _not ready for_ is the sight of Eddie Diaz, his best friend and coworker and the guy he has a schoolboy crush on, _naked in his bed_. Buck’s brain sort of short-circuits here, and he again has to fight the urge to pinch himself, but his brain breaks just enough that there is no way for him to stop his mouth from blurting out,

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Then he immediately wants to slap himself as he feels a distinct heat rising up the back of his neck and his cheeks. Distantly, somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears a voice that sounds eerily similar to Maddie’s saying something about ‘not looking a gift horse in the mouth’. But then Eddie turns to him and a slow, soft grin spreads across his face as he sees Buck, seemingly for the first time, and suddenly he can’t even bring himself to care about the words that had slipped out of his mouth.

“There a reason you’re _not_ naked in bed?”

Until Eddie said _that_ , and suddenly Buck cares again. A lot.

“You’re very drunk, aren’t you?” And when the same lazy grin slides back on to Eddie’s lips, he gets his answer.

So Buck just shakes his head and turns away from the bed and Eddie to head towards his dresser. He strips out of his shirt and pants, ignores Eddie’s wolf-whistle, pulls on a pair of pyjama pants, and pelts Eddie in the head with another pair as he heads to the en suite to brush his teeth, closing the door to the sounds of soft laughter and rustling sheets. He goes throw his nighttime routine, then splashes water on his face and just stares at himself in the mirror wondering how his life came to this. He lets his head hang between his shoulders where he’s braced against the bathroom counter, kind of dreading going back into his own bedroom, but a huge yawn and the sight of his tired eyes in the bathroom mirror tell him he needs the sleep.

He opens the door, fully expecting to find Eddie buried under the covers again, but the light from the bathroom catches his face as he looks gently at Buck. He flicks the light off and heads over to the bed, lifting the covers and fully intending to climb into bed when a thought strikes and he makes eye contact with Eddie.

“You did put on the pants I gave you, right?” and Eddie just chuckled.

“Yes, I am no longer in the nude.”

Satisfied with his answer, Buck finished climbing into bed. He rolled on his side, closing his eyes and putting his back to Eddie, hoping and praying that this whole experience doesn’t have an effect on his dreams tonight. He’s still laying very, _very_ , still when Eddie starts shifting beside him and he feels the bed dip behind him, Eddie’s voice sounding a little closer when he speaks.

“I’m not that drunk, you know.” Buck just snorts.

“Is that why you passed out naked in my bed? Because you’re so sober?”

“I didn’t say I was sober, I am definitely drunk. I said I’m not _that drunk_ ,” and Buck doesn’t quite understand where this is going, says as much, and is caught slightly off-guard at the explanation. “I mean I’m not drunk enough to not mean what I said. I very much meant what I said, I just needed to be half awake and more than a little tipsy to say it, I guess.”

Buck tries to process that, he really does, but all he can do is turn over again to face Eddie. It’s dark in his bedroom, but he can make out Eddie’s face this close up, and he looks loose and happy. He’s for sure going to wake up with a horrible hangover tomorrow, and Buck is for sure going to have to deal with him, but for now, he’s got Eddie looking at him with soft eyes and an even softer smile. He leans forward and lands a gentle kiss on Eddie’s forehead and whispers ‘Sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow’ against the skin. Before he can move away, Eddie takes the proximity as permission to cuddle up to him, slinging an arm across Buck’s torso and snuggling his head into Buck’s neck. So he just cuddles back, wraps an arm around his shoulders and burying his nose into Eddie’s hair before laying a kiss there.

They’re asleep between one breath and the next, pyjama clad legs tangled together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up, evanbuckley-diaz on the ol' tumblr dot com


End file.
